Reverse Hourglass
by yukuro
Summary: [post Requiem] While traveling together, Takuma learns exactly what kind of leader Shuya is, and what kind of friend that makes him. [minor Aoi Takuma x Nanahara Shuya]


**Disclaimer:** Own nothing but a DVD copy of BR I and II, and crappy copies at that.

**Pairing:** minor Aoi Takuma x Nanahara Shuya

**Note:** Takes place towards the end of _Requiem_, after escaping the island.

**Reverse Hourglass**

_By: yukuro_

Looking back, there were many things Aoi Takuma regretted. He regretted not being able to save Shintarou, not signing that damn rugby ball, even being able to say nothing to his mother as she drove away in the rain. This, however, was something he found that he absolutely could not regret despite all that he had lost. His eyes shifted over to the left to secretly observe Nanahara Shuya's profile, or rather, what he could see of it as the other boy's face was covered by a concealing cloth.

They _were_ presently on the run, after all. Escaping the island alive had been some kind of hell (and miracle at that), but they had managed somehow. Now they were traveling about, somewhat randomly in Takuma's point of view, but since Shuya insisted they were going to meet the others, he simply shrugged and went along with it. He trusted Shuya, and that was the end of the story.

Actually, several times, Takuma wondered if he was insane. He knowingly became a terrorist—never mind the countless government guns that were pointed at him and his classmates—and risked everything for someone barely a few years older than him, whom he had known for only a few days. His actions were defying all sense of logic, but he still found himself unable to regret siding with Wild Seven and, of course, Shuya.

---

Nanahara Shuya was some kind of leader. He somehow managed to be melancholy, wise, sincere, fierce, and understanding all at the same time. He occasionally looked like a frightened child, huddled up under a sheet with widened eyes as the sound of gunshots rang repeatedly through the air, and Takuma noticed but never said anything about it. It occasionally reminded him that yes, Shuya was still a child too, and so was he, in fact. They were too young to be holding guns and taking lives, and if they were perhaps in another world that would have been blissfully true.

"I'm not as strong as you think," Shuya replied once when Takuma had commented about it. The older boy was absentmindedly flipping a well taken care of silver butterfly knife as he spoke, light from the flames of their campfire flickering on his face. "I'm also weak. Strength and weakness always come together in a balance. The stronger you get on the outside, the weaker you get on the inside."

Takuma found himself often humbled by the older boy. Their difference in years was not that great at all, but every time they spoke, Takuma felt the difference widen just a little. He was sure if they lined up their experiences next to each other, Shuya's would have won by several miles.

---

It was difficult not to notice what the things Shuya treasured most were. Whenever he felt particularly lost, the silver butterfly knife would be in his hands being distractedly flipped open and closed. There was a yellow headband tied around his neck whenever he prepared to go fight—something told Takuma those tiny bloodstains spotting the ragged thing did not belong to Shuya. Then there were those pictures. Shuya carried these things with him everywhere. Traveling with him just for a few days made it apparent.

Takuma had asked the older boy about his experiences once. Partly out of curiosity and partly out of well-concealed concern. Shuya had taken a long swig out of his flask then and slowly complied. And he told the entire story—everything. From the origin of the knife, to the chaotic bus ride (he had smiled slightly at the memory of Nobu's antics then), to the horrid discovery of what they had been set to do, to the deterioration of their class, to the countless deaths, to the end of the game, to his escape, to his travels… That night Takuma learned much about the older boy, not particularly only from his story but also from his changing expressions. Even so, he found himself to be wordless at the time so all he managed was a comforting bump of the shoulders.

---

Noriko had taught him how to trust and be gentle (there was also tying effective bandages on that list too, actually), Kawada had taught him how to be strong and to protect his friends (and how to drink, not to mention shoot a gun), but Takuma taught something too (sincerity can be spoken with little actions abashed confessions of past embarrassing stories, despite the scowls, and smiling in harsh times is still ok sometimes—really). Shuya was a fast learner, and Takuma was good at unconsciously teaching. They got along perfectly.

The first time Takuma unwittingly got himself drunk was also the first time he heard Shuya laugh. It was brief and muffled since he clapped a hand over his mouth to smother it. They had found refuge in a bar owned by one of Shuya's acquaintances (in his business, he _had_ to have plenty of trustworthy acquaintances), and somehow managed to find time to take it easy for once. Takuma had discovered his inability to hold his liquor, and they both discovered that Takuma was a wordy drunk. Though admittedly, his embarrassing stories about his middle school days _were_ rather interesting. Shuya had laughed, after all.

"You'll get better at drinking," Shuya had commented with a faint snicker as he refilled his flask, which actually belonged to Kawada once upon a time. When the younger boy shot him an irritated look, he simply grinned lightly and asked for a glass of water to be placed in front of him. Laughing slightly, he advised, "Drink it. It'll help level your head."

"Next time you suggest hiding out in a bar, remind me to disagree," Takuma said through gritted teeth as he snatched up the water. Unfortunately for him, as he did so, he spilled half the glass down his front side. Shuya had to turn away and clap a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing aloud. Takuma scowled faintly to himself and downed what was left of the water. "Hn. At least someone's entertained."

"I know," Shuya replied with a faint smile that was rapidly fading. "Rare, isn't it?"

"Try it more often," Takuma mumbled as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and roughly placing the glass back on the counter.

Shuya raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"It's not a bad look for you."

---

Surprisingly, it only took a month for Takuma's alcohol tolerance level to be on par with Shuya's. It made Shuya slightly indignant that his younger friend had accomplished what had taken him a year, particularly because Takuma had taken to smirking smugly at him as their number of drinks evened. In fact, Shuya was beginning to suspect Takuma had surpassed him.

"It's kind of strange how something considered a depressant makes us feel better," Takuma mused quietly to himself as he snatched Shuya's flask and swirled it.

"I like the concept of not having to think sometimes," the older boy replied, falling back to lie down before draping an arm over his eyes.

The campfire flickered and crackled in their momentary silence.

Takuma re-screwed the cap on the flask and stuck it back in Shuya's pocket. He stared into the fire and watched it flicker. Offhandedly, he asked, "Tipsy?"

"Only as much as you," Shuya mumbled in response, arm not moving from where it covered his eyes.

"Hn."

Their silences were always rather comfortable (and Takuma could always tell when Shuya was tired).

---

Shuya had countless followers and admirers. Takuma was increasingly surer of it with every day they traveled together. It was only natural, he supposed. Shuya was an effective and determined leader with a set goal (he wanted to say a "noble cause," but he knew not everyone thought so). Despite being soft-spoken and gentle, Nanahara Shuya was also charismatic and a skilled fighter. Years of practice in war did that to a person. Takuma knew Shuya had his followers, but it was his admirers he found somewhat…

"N-Nanahara-san!" a stuttering girl in her second year of high school with a flush-stained face had proclaimed, hands clasped together. "I…I always watch your broadcasts! I'll s-support you with everything I have! I'll…do anything to be able to be at your side!"

…it was indescribable.

It was not that Takuma had not thought that Shuya's natural good looks had something to do with his number of female followers nor that he had forgotten the possibility. He simply found it rather irritating and usually opted for silence when they came upon one of those type of girls.

Shuya was the opposite, however. He always treated them kindly, softly, gently. He thanked them for their support and encouraged them. He _had_ said they would all fight together, after all. However, he also always stressed not to carelessly toss their lives away.

One had claimed she was in love with him. Takuma didn't remember her name—she was just one of the many who had proclaimed similar feelings, after all. Shuya did though. He always remembered the name of everyone he met in his travels. He also treated her kindly and spoke softly to her. Takuma had barely had more than a simple grunted exchange of a greeting with her.

The girl had died in a gunfight. She was suicidal and crazy in Takuma's mind, but he had learned to be more solemn about the situation, especially after seeing Shuya's utterly anguished expression afterwards. The girl had wanted to help them by distracting a sniper they had not noticed. She was a silly girl, Takuma had thought, but her plan certainly succeeded even if the cost was great.

The bullet went clear through her throat. She was dead before Shuya managed to scramble to her side (Takuma had shot down the sniper). She died with her eyes wide open, and some of her blood stained the edge of Shuya's white sleeve.

It was rare to find someone who was completely sincere in all that they did, but Shuya was definitely one. He mourned for her afterwards, the same way he did for all his other friends and followers who had been killed. Shortly, but he did so anyway.

"You look like you're about to cry," Takuma commented as he crushed a flower in his hand and tossing it into the fire in the girl's memory.

"I can't cry," the older boy had responded, flicking another flower into the fire. His face had nothing but a set expression of neutrality, but Takuma was still sure of his observation. "I'm already all out of tears."

Takuma remained silent and continued to watch the fire.

"I cried a lot before," Shuya said quietly, flames dancing in his dark eyes. "It took a while, but I eventually stopped. All my tears dried, and my eyes cleared up. More and more people continue to die before my eyes, even now. I can't cry for them all anymore. All I can do is move on and remember them for all they've done. That's why I'll never forget a name, a face, or a friend."

And then, Takuma felt more than just a little guilty that he never took the time to remember that girl's name.

---

Automatic weapons may have been his specialty, but Shuya was also fairly handy with a handgun. His aim was almost impeccable, clearly from dedicated practice, and his seriousness when he aimed reminded Takuma somewhat of the intensity Kitano Shiori had back when they were on the island. Takuma had seen Shuya cleanly put a bullet through people's heads with a calm, collected expression countless times. It made it a little hard to believe how badly the older boy's hands would shake afterwards.

"No matter how many times I kill a person, I'll never get used to it," Shuya explained shakily as he steadied his hand and reloaded the gun.

"That might be a good thing," Takuma commented as he watched the older boy look up at him slowly with eyes that could only be described as painfully anguished. He was sure a little bit of grateful hope glimmered there too though.

"It's what keeps us human."

---

Despite how he had declared war on all adults, there were still some adults who were sympathetic towards them. Takuma found it somewhat surprising and even slightly suspicious, but Shuya seemed to trust them. Then again, Shuya trusted people fairly easily. It this feature of Shuya's that kept Takuma on his toes (enough so for both of them) whenever they went somewhere new.

They were given a place to sleep, food, items to replenish their traveling stock, and anything else they needed. Shuya took the opportunity as a rare moment to relax, even just for a few moments, a leisure he very, _very_ rarely ever had. Takuma was still rather paranoid though, a good quality for a soldier, but poor for the nerves. Even when Shuya insisted on a short bath in the small tub, Takuma had insisted on squeezing himself in a corner of the bathroom in case of some surprise attack. He found it incredulous that Shuya could close his eyes and look so comfortable in such a small amount of space and with the constant threat of attack looming over them. In fact, Shuya looked as if he was dozing off in the bathtub.

Takuma could not help but scowl slightly as he gripped his gun nervously. "You're not worried at all?"

"This is an adult we can trust," Shuya mumbled rather sleepily, lifting an arm out of the water to run through his damp hair. As he did so, he pointed at his handgun, which he had left within his reach in case of emergency. "But of course I'm worried."

"What'd you say this guy's name was?" Takuma asked, still slightly disgruntled but placated for the moment. He settled back against the wall and tilted his head back on the coarse tile.

"…Kawada."

Takuma's eyes immediately shot over to the older boy.

"His uncle," came the simple response. "We've already met before."

"…that explains it then," Takuma sighed, loosening his death grip on his gun and bringing a hand up to rub his temples in noticeable exasperation. "Why you trust him so much."

"It gets harder to trust people as the days go and even harder to find trustworthy friends," Shuya muttered as he sank a little lower into the water. "It's best to treasure the ones you already have."

"Something I see you're good at."

At that, Shuya opened his eyes and stared blankly at the wall, making Takuma turn faintly to look questioningly at him. Takuma then knew he hit a nerve—Shuya's eyes had told him already.

"I just can't forget," he muttered softly. "It'd be betrayal."

He then ducked his head in the water.

Takuma counted to three before sliding across the floor towards the tub pull the remorseful Shuya back up again. The older boy simply sighed and looked faintly apologetically at Takuma through his dripping wet bangs. Unfortunately, drowning was not on the agenda.

---

They frequently needed to restore their provisions, which Takuma was making sure of this time around while Shuya conversed quietly with their host. He knew it was wrong of him to eavesdrop, but Takuma was paranoid (hell, Shuya had made him that way after their experiences together). He still absentmindedly secured more food and water while he leaned back against the wall and strained to hear their soft voices.

"—a dangerous road you're treading, Shuya," Kawada was saying when Takuma finally managed to tune in.

"I know, but I intend on fighting until the end."

Takuma's leg twitched, causing some cans in the storage room to clash. He swore softly and retracted his foot, leaning over their bags as if fully concentrated on their supplies. He felt their gazes flick over to him for a moment before shifting off again. Once he was sure they had taken their eyes off him, he strained his ears to listen again.

"…where did you say you met him again?"

A slightly disapproving tone. Takuma gritted his teeth in annoyance.

"The island. He came with some of his classmates under the revised BR Act."

A scoff.

"That law is outrageous," the man asserted vehemently, nearly spitting the words out. "That kid been good to you?"

There was a brief pause, and Takuma felt some part of his nerves die a little. Did Shuya not trust him? How had he proven himself _not_ useful? He had dedicated everything—…

"Of course," Shuya then said softly. "He's a valuable comrade and an irreplaceable friend."

Takuma drew back and slumped against the wall. Maybe his paranoia had gone a little overboard this time. The moment his mind was set at ease, he then realized just exactly how important Shuya's trust was to him.

It was so consuming, it was almost shocking.

---

Handing the older boy his bag, Takuma slung his over his shoulder and stepped out the door with a vague motion of gratefulness at Kawada. Midday sunshine glaring brightly down on him, he breathed in the dusty air and called lightly over his shoulder, "We'd better get going, Shuya."

Shuya froze and blinked in surprise.

Blatantly ignoring him, Takuma secured his bag and stepped out into the street, looking for a secure route out. He had only taken a few steps away when he heard Kawada ask, "Shuya? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the other boy replied, still blinking in surprise. He continued when Kawada made a disapproving noise, "It's just…I think that's the first time he's called me by my name."

A few steps away, Takuma ducked his head, adjusted his hat, and quickly jogged forward.

---

They always ended up in the same situation whenever they camped out in their travels. A small campfire would be set up before him, and they would sit in front of it, drinking lightly and watching the fire crackle leisurely. They occasionally talked about things, but only when they were in the mood. Some days they had more to say than others. That day may or may not have been one of them.

Shuya rarely got drunk—it was just too risky. In fact, of all the times they had been drinking, Takuma was fairly sure he could count the number of times he had seen Shuya tipsy even on one hand. That day was an anomaly, clearly, since Shuya was more or less drunk and laid back on the floor, staring somewhat hopelessly at the sky. Takuma vaguely wondered if he had caused the older boy to go a bit overboard by asking about his relationship with Noriko.

"She was the girl Nobu loved," Shuya had said, attempting to distract himself by taking a swig from his flask. Takuma had the feeling Shuya was being dodgy on purpose, but for once, he was not feeling relenting.

"I didn't ask that," he said as smoothly as he could, eyeing the older boy out of the corner of his eye. "I asked what your relationship with her was."

"…I don't know yet," Shuya admitted after a long period of silence. "All I know is that I have to protect her. I owe Nobu at least that much."

Another long period of silence followed, as Takuma pondered the prospect of continuing the conversation. He was not even sure why he had brought t he topic up on the first place. Some sort of overbearing curiosity had made him do it, and even then, he was unsure where the curiosity and come from.

"What about you?" Shuya asked suddenly, speech slightly slurred from his over consumption. "Don't you have Asakura-san to worry about?"

Nao.

In all honesty, Takuma had not thought much about her since they last saw each other. He was constantly on the run, constantly using his gun, and constantly watching Shuya's back as they ran. Even now, he could barely remember her smile back then—what it looked like and the warmth he felt when he smiled back at her. Since he left that island, he had not been able to think of much.

"…damn it!"

Maybe he did it because he was thinking of Nao, or maybe he did it because he too was a little drunk. Or maybe it was just the way Shuya was staring so despairingly at the sky, as if the world had just collapsed over him.

Or maybe he was just attempting to think up excuses for why he really wanted to kiss Shuya right then. Which, on a sudden impulse, he did, even though he had not decided on why.

It took Shuya's alcohol-slurred mind a moment to fully process what was happening before his eyes widened slightly and his body stiffened. Takuma had squeezed his eyes shut all the while and fisted the front part of the older boy's shirt. Seeing the way his brows were creased in an almost painful way, Shuya could not help but fall back a bit limply and closed his eyes, letting it happen without much of a thought.

Maybe they could blame it on the alcohol later.

---

Takuma never apologized for what happened, and Shuya never brought it up. In fact, they never even discussed it afterwards. Even so, they were still fairly comfortable around each other. Perhaps even more so, Takuma suspected, but never had much to confirm his suspicions with.

They continued to travel together without any hitches; just perfectly smoothly, as always. Takuma did find himself glancing over at Shuya sometimes at night, wondering what he was thinking though. But he then had to stop to wonder about himself and why it mattered so much in the first place. It was just a little kiss, really. Dry, closed lips, very still—nothing particularly special, even if it was on the lips. Shuya's lips had been soft with alcohol then, and it almost tasted…_good_.

He was probably crazy when he did it a second time, then a third, and a few more times after that. But Shuya never said anything.

And Takuma never apologized.

---

"Shit!"

He had never really doubted Shuya's prowess, but sometimes it was shocking. It may have had something to do with the way Shuya's expression never changed when he fired, despite where and at who he aimed.

Takuma flinched visibly when the bullet practically grazed past his face and nailed the man who had been sneaking up behind him directly between the eyes. Three or four meters away, Shuya still had his arm up and extended, handgun still pointed directly at him. That man had been the last and the fight was over, but Takuma was still completely shaken.

He never quite understood what it was like having Shuya point a gun at him until that very moment. He had not even been the enemy, and he head still felt the icy cool deadliness in the shot. The moment the man fell to his knees behind him, Takuma swore out loud once as Shuya closed his eyes and slowly lowered his weapon.

Without so much as a warning, Takuma marched firmly over to the other boy and fisted his shirt again. Shuya opened his eyes slowly, and Takuma planted a firm, slightly sloppy kiss on his lips like some sort of confirmation before stepping back and releasing his hold on the older boy's shirt. He watched in silence as Shuya quietly spared him a soft smile.

"You know I'd never shoot you."

At that moment, Takuma genuinely hoped not. Shuya's eyes when he fired were simply…

Frightening.

---

"Are you afraid of me?"

"…huh?"

Shuya smiled softly.

Takuma was fairly certain the unspoken question attached to the initial one was: "is that why you kiss me?" Unfortunately, he really did not have that answer for himself yet, so he decided to remain silent and snapped a twig in his hands.

"In any case, we're almost there," Shuya continued quietly, staring out towards the mountains. "Another few days should do it."

"…Shuya."

"Hmm?"

"No, I'm not."

Shuya smiled softly again.

---

When their journey finally drew to a close, Takuma was unsure of what to say. Three long months had past. Three long months of fights, deaths, horrors, and even some things Takuma had yet to understand. They drove together down the last street they would probably be on together for a long time. Knowing all this, Takuma still was unable to find anything to say.

"You don't have to say anything," Shuya told him serenely, a placid smile and matching expression on his face. When Takuma looked at him, his smile stretched a bit more. He explained, "After all, it's not as if this is goodbye."

So much had happened in the last three months, Takuma was barely able to remember it all. He _would_ remember all that he had learned though. It was everything Shuya had taught him and everything he had learned from their travels together. Despite all the terrible things he had seen, he felt somewhat happy—so much so that he could not help but smile lightly. Of course, he ducked his head (so the brim of his hat would shade his face some more) and looked out the window to cover it up.

Shuya probably saw though. He had some sort of sixth sense about that kind of thing.

When the car stopped, Takuma felt as if time had slipped back into place again. It was as if all their travels and memories spent together had been a falling grain of sand in a hourglass. Everything was spinning backwards and falling into place, where it belonged. Even if it was an insignificant grain in a mound of sand, it was still part of a whole and helped shape that mound. And in this hourglass, sand had already stopped falling.

They glanced at each other when the engine stopped, exchanging silent conversation between their eyes briefly. Takuma was sure they understood each other right then, if they had not already before.

"It's not goodbye," Shuya reminded him with his reassuring smile before pushing the door open.

Takuma closed his eyes and smiled back lightly as he pushed the door open from the passenger side.

"No, it's not."

The sun felt warm, and it was finally time to reverse the hourglass again.

Owari.

* * *

**A/N:** This...is random. And that ending? Terrible. Eh. Anyway, much of my BR introspectives were incorporated into this...thing, and a lot of general rambles and such. Some parts of this as I was writing, I kept thinking, "...what the hell am I writing?" and other times I was kind of like, "Oh, this is _fun_, but uh, isn't it getting a bit long?" XD And some other mindless rambles on that part. In any case, this has been an attempt to delve deeper into Shuya's...err, _different_ personality in _Requiem_. And I just like the dynamics and similiarities Shuya and Taku share, so yeah. xP 

It's weird to be coming back from a long break without writing with a piece from a fandom I've never really stepped far in, but it's also kind of nice. Also, this fic has crept onto my personal favorites list. Just because I had to think a lot about it and got to put in a bunch of personal thoughts and analysis of character personalities into it. So feedback would be especially loved for this piece! Heh. Uh. Other than that, I've completely forgotten anything else I wanted to say about this and BR and such, so I'll be escaping now!

Thanks for reading! Feedback pretty please? xP


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